


We're Okay

by PilDoor



Series: 15 Fanfictions Challenge [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Destiel - Freeform, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, I hope this isn't considered rude, It's meant as a compliment!, M/M, Sequel, We're the cliché
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-21
Updated: 2016-03-21
Packaged: 2018-05-28 05:31:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6316546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PilDoor/pseuds/PilDoor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part of a fanfiction writing challenge I found approx. 1 million years ago on tumblr:<br/>"What’s your favorite fanfiction? Write a sequel, or a prequel, to your favorite fanfiction. Be sure to show it to the original fanfiction’s author, I’m sure they’ll love it! ;D"</p><p>One fanfiction I can read again and again is We're The Cliché by Endversed (http://archiveofourown.org/works/569184) So many props!</p><p>This is a little scene of the couple's life 15 years later.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We're Okay

**Author's Note:**

They’d been together for years now. And sure, Dean had had smaller breakdowns over commitments from time to time but it had been years ago now, what with them having a mortgage and being just over a week away from signing the adoption papers for their first child, so yeah, saying Castiel was surprised at what he found when he came home that day would be an understatement. 

He’d come home after work at the University to see the Impala in the garage and he’d frowned at it, trying to remember if Dean had told him anything about getting off early, but he didn’t think so. He shrugged and went up the path to the front door, which to his bewilderment was slightly open. Huh. Dean was supposed to be the paranoid one. Castiel proceeded into the hallway, which was dark and silent, which made Castiel suspicious. He didn’t remember ever coming home to a dark and silent house if Dean was in, not even if he was napping. For some reason he slept better with AC/DC at the highest volume.

But of course Dean wasn’t supposed to be home from the shop until 6pm, and maybe something had been wrong with the Impala that morning which had led to him taking the bus? Then Castiel remembered that Dean had given him a ride on the way to the garage, so no, that didn’t make any sense.

Castiel shrugged out of his trench coat and hung it in the closet before stepping out of his shoes. That’s when he heard it: silent rock music, loud enough to break the stillness that seemed to have frozen their house. On socked feet Castiel tip-toed further into the house, coming to a stop at the end of the staircase. 

He tipped his head upwards. It was quiet, yes, but the music was unmistakingly coming from upstairs. The atmosphere of the house had Castiel moving slowly, trying not to make too much noise as he ascended the stairs. He winced at a creak, but the music continued playing at the same low volume. Castiel didn’t remember Dean ever playing music so quietly, but the sound was kind of muffled, leading him to believe Dean might have covered the stereo in something. Why he would ever do that, Castiel figured, he was about to find out.

He reached the top of the stairs and went right, going for their bedroom. The door was agape and there was no one in there, though he noted that Dean must had been there, because Castiel had made the bed that morning, and he was a lot better at what hurried mess he was looking at right then. Castiel stayed still in the doorframe, closing his eyes to try and decipher from which direction the music was coming from. 

The faint lyrics of Metallica’s Enter Sandman lead the to the door straight across the hallway – the nursery. 

Dean had been freaking out about the nursery since they started. In a sort of bipolar manner. One week he’d be ecstatically creative, bringing home different colors of paint and mobiles and stuffed animals, and the next he’d studiously ignore the room, not even looking in its direction coming to and from the bedroom. Castiel figured Dean was now past a phase of the latter, and if he was repainting another wall again Castiel was going to be pissed. The walls had been pink and blue and yellow and they’d finally settled on mostly white, with a dark blue on the back wall, and they’d finally arranged the crib and changing table and everything to mutual satisfaction and if he’d moved everything and covered everything in plastic again…! Besides it could hardly be healthy for a baby to be sleeping in a so freshly painted room!

Castiel came to a halt outside the door. He pressed his ear against the door. Yes, the music was definitely coming from there, but there was no rustling or sound of movement, so there was probably no painting going on. He knocked reverently on the door and even though there was no answer he turned the knob slowly and entered the nursery. 

The night blinds were very effective, Castiel noted to himself, as the only light in the room came from the open door. Castiel blinked a couple of times and after a few second of staring into the darkness he noticed a figure huddled in to the corner. 

Dean was looking up at him with big eyes, and Castiel kind of wanted to smile – both from amusement and affection – at the picture in front of him. Dean was sitting against the corner next to the crib, wrapped up in their double duvet, only part of him visible being his big, scared eyes and earphone-covered ears. 

Castiel looked to the floor quickly, making sure no death traps would be in his way, before closing the door and making his way in blindness to where Dean was. Dean was considerate enough to press the button on his iPod, as a sort of beacon to guide Castiel.  
He stepped behind Dean as Dean scooted forward about a foot, to let Castiel sit down behind him, Castiel’s legs on either side of him. 

Castiel gently removed the headphones from Dean’s ears and took both those and the iPod clutched in Dean’s hand and placed them next to them on the floor.

“What are you doing?” Castiel let his hand run over Dean’s shoulder, starting to rub softly at the tension there.

“Cas,” it was a broken whisper of his name as Dean slumped forward to put his face in his hands. “I honestly don’t know what the hell I’m doing.”

Castiel’s hands slid from his shoulders, down his arms till they found Dean’s hands, which he covered with his own. He rested his chin on Dean’s shoulder, where his hand had been before, placing a gentle peck against the side of Dean’s throat.

“I’m not father material, Cas. I don’t know why we thought this was a good idea,” Dean almost sighs the sentence and he sounds way too serious and not on the verge of a hysterical breakdown as per usual when he’s saying these kind of things. Castiel squeezes him softly with his arms and thighs.

“I’m a mess, I was always a fucking mess. I’m basically still a giant kid myself, you said so yourself just last week.” Dean mumbles and Cas sighs. That had been a dumb argument, caused by stress and pressure and lack of communication.

“Dean, I’d asked to you to buy a car seat and you came home with a dining table. I know you’re – you have been – panicking about this, and it wasn’t fair to keep asking these things of you.” Castiel runs his finger over Dean’s rough knuckles. He’d been kind of impossible the past week, and he knew that and he’d been aware of it. He hadn’t known why and he didn’t know why he hadn’t been able to stop either. He’d just kept ordering Dean around, even though it was stuff he could have done himself or stuff they could – and probably should – have done together. Damn baby stress.

“Yes, Cas! Yes, it is fair! We’re going to be parents for fuck’s sake, how the fuck do you still trust me enough to do this with me if I can’t even buy a goddamn car seat without screwing up?” Dean moves an inch to the side to look at Castiel. They’re so close together and Cas nuzzles against his jaw with his nose and kind of hates himself a little bit for acting like a hormonal teenager over everything the past week. 

Before he has a chance to apologize and reassure Dean continues, “besides do you remember what I was like in high school? I should never be trusted with kids,” Castiel shushes him slightly, covering Dean’s ear with his lips, and his lips with his fingers.

“You took care of Sam, honey. And you did so, well. You took it seriously and you didn’t fuck up and you sacrificed everything for him. Our baby girl is going to be the most spoiled kid in the neighborhood, if not the world, Dean, because you don’t know how to give anything less than everything you have for the people you love. And she’s going to dance on your feet when she’s five and steal all your rock CD’s when she’s thirteen and going through her rebellious stage and she’s going to yell at you for being overprotective and scaring all her boyfriends away when she’s sixteen and she’ll love you forever.” Castiel is smiling against Dean’s cheek as he imagines all of it. Yes, Dean is going to be a great father. There was never any doubt about it.

Dean sniffles a little, and glares at Cas out of the corner of his eyes, when he feels the grin against his cheek. “You think so?”

“I know so. Now get up, we still have to buy a car seat, and since your already skipping work today we might as well just get it done.” Cas pushes gently at Dean, who grunts as he gets up and then offers Castiel his hand.

As Castiel stretches Dean snakes his hands around his waist and pull him against his chest. Cas rests his hands on his biceps and looks at him questioningly. Dean swoops in and kisses him fantastically and Cas is light-headed as he leans back, grateful that Dean still has his hand around him, and grateful that he has a husband who still makes him feel this way after 15 years.


End file.
